Rec Deck Adventures
by Reyka Sivao
Summary: Uhura, Spock, music, language, and something or other about the nature of non-romantic love. (Pure crew friendship-family fluff, with aromantic Uhura)


Author's note: Written for the Happy Trekmas exchange. Also, formatting, why do you hate me so?

* * *

Chess had never been a particular interest of Uhura's, but good company and good conversation most certainly i_were_/i, and so she gamely examined the board in front of her for possible moves.

«You've probably figured out my every move before I have,» she said as cheerfully as proper Vulcan would allow, and made her choice, moving her queen to a higher board.

Across the table, Spock raised his eyebrow. «On the contrary,» he replied. «Your moves have averaged between the seventh and the fifteenth most likely that I would have expected.»

Uhura laughed at that, prompting a glance from where Sulu sat playing a hand of cards with Chekov.

«That bad?» she said.

Spock considered the board and made his move, threatening her queen with his knight. «There can be certain advantages to unpredictability.»

Uhura smiled and shook her head, taking a pawn to get her queen out of danger. «Thank you,» she said, putting the captured pawn in the all-too-small pile of his pieces, «but in this case, I'm afraid it's less a matter of calculated unpredictability and more a matter of not having a strategy at all.»

Spock lifted his well-practiced eyebrow again and moved a rook to threaten her king.

"Check and mate," he said in Standard.

Uhura looked at the board a moment and then laughed again. "Thus proving my point," she said. "I'm afraid these are not the patterns my brain is best wired for."

"I would have achieved checkmate eight moves ago had you not sacrificed your bishop," said Spock.

Uhura's lips twitched. "Yes, sacrificed," she agreed. "That sounds so much better than 'momentarily forgot how pawns move'." She shook her head. "Perhaps I should try translating a book of chess strategies into Klingon. Maybe then I'd remember. Another game?"

"Perhaps another time," said Spock, glancing up to where the swish of the doors had just announced the arrival of Dr. McCoy. "I have promised the good doctor a musical performance."

McCoy snorted. "As if those pointy ears of yours could catch a tune," he said, scowling in that way that meant that he was annoyed at having nothing in particular to complain about.

"Vulcan hearing is statistically superior to human in every respect. Surely even your medical training is not so deficient as not to be aware of that."

"In every physical respect," said McCoy begrudgingly. "But music takes i_soul_/i, and that, I'm still not sure you have.

"I fail to see how you could have forgotten my last performance already, doctor," said Spock, reaching under the table to produce the case that contained his Vulcan Lyre, "especially since it was you who requested that I play. Clearly, I am capable of performing musical pieces."

McCoy grumped again. "So, what are you going to play for us?" said Dr. McCoy sourly. "The scientific method in verse? A list of all the standard elements and isotopes? Surely Vulcan music isn't just there to sound pretty."

Spock raised his eyebrows in the doctor's direction. "Teaching songs are hardly unknown on Earth, doctor," he said. "Nor are the other benefits of music any less if you deny their existence. However, I can certainly come prepared to play a song of that type if you request it."

McCoy snorted. "Benefits?" he said. "The main benefit of music is that it i_sounds pretty_!/i"

Uhura's lips twitched at that. "Of course, doctor," she interjected, "but there's also better rhythm and pattern recognition, improved memory recall, and an association with mathematical ability-or is that just for humans?" she said, directing that last bit at Spock.

McCoy gave her a look. "Now just whose side are you on, anyway?"

Uhura laughed again. "Starfleet won out over the French Music Academy by about two hairs. I'm on whichever side music is on, doctor."

By that time, Spock had set up his instrument, and a small crowd had gathered closer.

"Did you still wish to hear my playing, doctor, or are you willing to concede that my 'pointy ears' are more than capable of holding a tune?"

"Well, even if i_he_/i doesn't, I do," said Uhura.

Spock raised an eyebrow in her general direction, and, without waiting for Dr. McCoy, began to play his lyre.

This time, the tune was familiar to Uhura, but it took her a moment before she recognized it as an instrumental arrangement of a song she knew—one of the songs she'd translated as a side project while learning Vulcan at the academy. It had been a while, but the sound of the music brought the words back to her.

Tapping her fingers to check her rhythm, Uhura closed her eyes to bring the words to the forefront of her memory and began to sing along in Vulcan.

Spock, of course, gave no show of surprise, but kept on playing without a hiccup, and even repeated a verse to give her a chance to finish.

They finished the unplanned duet in sync, and the rec deck broke into applause.

Dr. McCoy harrumphed slightly, clearly impressed, but still in the mood for a good recreational grump. "Since when do you speak Vulcan?" he said.

"Since I was recruited to work on the Universal Translator project at the Academy," said Uhura.

Dr. McCoy shook his head. "It still hardly seems like the most useful second language to pick up."

Uhura laughed. "Sixth," she said.

Spock raised his eyebrow at that. "Which six languages do you speak?" he asked.

Uhura shook her head. "I said Vulcan was my sixth," she said. "The first five were Swahili, Standard, French, Earth Sign Language, and Andorian. At this point, I think I'm up to…" She glanced off into space. "…sixteen," she finished, "depending on how you define fluency."

"That is a lot of languages," said Chekov.

Uhura smiled at him. «Russian was number eleven,» she said.

Sulu glanced from Chekov back to Uhura. «What about Japanese? »

«Naturally.»

"Ah, you're making me wish I'd learned the language of my ancestors!" said Scotty. "Never had the head for it, I'm afraid. Do you know any old Scots Gaelic?"

Uhura laughed again and spread her hands. "I'm afraid you've stumped me. No, not a word. Shall I add it to my list?"

Scotty laughed. "That's all right, lassie," he said. "I wouldn't know what you said if you did."

"How did you come to know the song?" asked Spock.

Uhura turned back toward him. "I translated the song while I was learning Vulcan at the academy," she said. "It helps me get a feel for a new language."

"That is a challenging assignment," commented Spock.

"Oh no, not an assignment," said Uhura. "A personal project."

Sulu, who was sitting nearby, laughed at her. "Only you," he said, "would add a project like that to your workload 'just because'."

Uhura aimed a swat in his general direction. "It helps me remember," she said.

"Into what language did you translate the song?" asked Spock.

"Swahili and Standard," said Uhura, and Sulu snorted another laugh.

"Could you sing it for us in Standard?" asked Chekhov.

Uhura glanced up for a moment. "Not right now," she said. "I'd have to look up my notes."

McCoy shot her a look. "You remembered i_his_/i version well enough."

Uhura laughed. "That version never changed," she said. "Mine went through a great many permutations trying to find something that held onto enough meaning to still call it a 'translation'. But if Mr. Spock doesn't object to playing for us again, I could certainly sing it for you next time."

"I would be most curious to hear your translation," said Spock.

Sulu was still shaking his head. "How many songs have you translated?" he asked.

"Different translations of the same song, or different songs? I have one song I've translated into every language I've learned.1"

"Of course you do," said Sulu.

"What song is that?" asked Spock.

"Oh, a song my mother sang as a lullaby," she said, and hummed a measure or so. "But I usually also try to find a good song in every new language. If you want to hear them in Standard, I can certainly refresh my memory."

* * *

Uhura made good on her promise, and the next time they all found themselves on the rec deck, she had brought her translation notes.

When she saw Spock, she smiled.

"I see you remembered your lyre," she said.

"Certainly," he said. "I would not have forgotten in any case."

"Good," said Uhura. "I brought my notes, just in case I forget."

Their off-duty crew members gathered around them as they set up, and then Spock started playing at Uhura's cue, and she began to sing in Standard.

It was a history song, telling a story about Surak on trial for his supposed crimes against the tradition of the time. Uhura had done her research on the incident, at least enough to allow her to tell the same story in her translation when she couldn't make the exact words fit the meter. It was an interesting story, and she found herself remembering it better as she sang.

She finished, followed a measure later by Spock, and there was some polite applause for the performance.

"Interesting," Spock commented. "I see you did not limit yourself to the original lyrics."

"I rarely can," said Uhura. "Trying to juggle both meaning and meter isn't easy."

"I see," said Spock. "Nevertheless, you seem to have succeeded quite adequately."

Uhura grinned at him. "From you, that's quite the compliment."

"Sing something in Swahili for us!" said Sulu from over where he sat with one leg tucked up under him.

"If you mean this one, I didn't bring my notes for that!" complained Uhura genially.

"Perhaps this sing would be more appropriate?" said Spock, and adjusted his harp and started playing a different song.

Uhura's mouth opened a little in surprise. It sounded differed coming from the little harp, but it was unmistakable-her favorite song, the one she'd translated into 16 different languages to put a little bit of herself in them. A song she could never forget, certainly.

Not able to hold in her smile, she found her place in the beat and began to sing.

* * *

Most of their shift had already moved in the general direction of the mess hall, and Uhura placed her order at the food dispensers and found a good place to sit down, which, right now, was at a table right across from Spock.

«Thank you,» she said in Vulcan as the slipped into the seat. «It was good to hear that song again.»

Spock only raised an eyebrow at her, as he was wont to do. «That does not require your thanks.»

Uhura smiled and dropped the subject. «What did you think of my translation?»

«Intriguing,» said Spock. «You seem to have done your research.»

«Of course,» said Uhura. «I have to have something to work with when I translate songs, after all.»

«How did you come to work with such things?» asked Spock.

Uhura laughed. «Quite by accident,» she said. «I was planning to study music.»

«That is quite a change.»

«Not quite so much as you might think, actually. But to answer your question, my high school offered an experimental course in conversational Andorian. It was the first non-Terran language they'd ever offered—and I only found out later that I was the only one there purely by choice.»

«Were you?»

«Yes,» said Uhura. «I'd already been told plenty of times that I had a knack for languages, and I enjoyed learning about them. But this teacher was heavily into theory, and this was the first time I was introduced to the concept of formal linguistics.» She smiled and took a sip of her coffee. "What can I say?" she said, switching back to Standard. "I fell in love."

Spock raised an eyebrow. "I was not aware that humans claimed to be able to 'fall in love' with abstract ideals," he said following her back into Standard.

"I've read too much Vulcan poetry for you to try and tell me that your people don't get metaphor, Mr. Spock. Language and music are my two great loves, and I consider myself married to my work."

Spock gave her another look. "The song you sang was about someone being unhappy at being unable to get married."

"The song _you_ played was about someone being on trial," countered Uhura. "Is that one of your life goals?"

"Indeed," said Spock. "It is not."

"Romance is overrated," said Uhura, taking a sip of her coffee to punctuate the statement. "Wonderful relationships are entirely possible without being 'in love'."

Spock frowned slightly. "I was under the impression that the ideal was considered to be a human universal."

Uhura smiled a little. "It certainly seems that way, doesn't it?"

"Fascinating," said Spock, though it seemed inwardly directed.

"What about Vulcans, then?" said Uhura. "You clearly have a different way of processing things."

"We do not have a concept of 'romance' as such," he said. "Marriages on my homeworld are generally arranged. Words for non-familial relationships are generally translated 'friend', though that erases certain distinctions."

Uhura nodded. "I see," she said. "I remember learning those, though it took a while to know when it was appropriate to use each one. I'm sure I'm still not perfect."

"Many of the words imply a telepathic component to the relationship, which tends to be…difficult to translate."

"Clearly, an oversight in the creation of Standard."

Spock tipped an eyebrow. "Indeed."

The door made its soft swishing sound behind her to indicate the presence of someone new. Uhura glanced up from her soup, only to see Kirk scanning the room. His eyes landed on Spock, who looked up to see him as well.

Uhura looked between them, and then lifted the bowl and drained the dregs of her soup. "Well, I have a few things I wanted to work on," she said, "so I'm going to get going. Enjoy your lunch."

She picked up the coffee and tray and pulled away from the table, passing Kirk as he came over with his own meal.

"Captain," she acknowledged with a smile, and left the seat behind her empty for him.

* * *

If Uhura noticed a slight shift in the air between their captain and first officer, she didn't make it any of her business.

Humming to herself, Uhura brought the coffee back to her quarters—her inner sanctum, made to be exactly what she needed in a workspace.

Setting her coffee down, she settled in to work—after all, Romulan wouldn't program itself into the translator. Well, it sort of would. That was the point of having a "universal" translator. But still, fine-tuning and adjustments for metaphor and the like still required the hand of a sentient being. There was nothing quite like a political incident caused by an imprecise translation.

But, of course, that meant she needed to fine-tune her own cultural awareness.

Smiling, and changing the tune she was humming, she pulled up the programs she needed and began to translate 'The Trial of Surak' into Romulan.

This one might be best not to share, but that didn't really matter. This was where she belonged—here, alone with her thoughts, her translations, and her music to keep her company.

It was a good place to be.

* * *

The next time she ventured out to the rec deck, Uhura brought several more copies of her translation notes and a promise from Spock to bring his lyre. After all, they had requests to fill.

With that in mind, to the delight of their compatriots, they performed several new songs—starting with a love ballad in Klingon, going on to an old Swahili song, and finishing up with a Russian lullaby she'd saved for when Chekhov declared that Russians had invested music. She'd even brought out the drum she sometimes played to provide some extra rhythm.

They probably could have gone on longer, but Kirk came to the door early to call on Spock for something. What, she didn't know, and didn't attempt to eavesdrop, no matter how tempting it was. She did glance over, though.

Precisely what she saw, she wasn't sure she could interpret properly. Still, she was pretty sure she caught a glimpse of Spock's hand touching Kirk's before the door slid closed behind them both.

Hiding a smile, she turned back to her remaining comrades.

"Well, since we seem to have lost our string accompaniment, who's up for some Klingon opera?"


End file.
